


The Girl Who Wouldn't Run (Freddy Krueger X Insomniac!Reader)

by Kastrallis



Category: Nightmare on Elm Street (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 02:59:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8472862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kastrallis/pseuds/Kastrallis
Summary: In which the reader (that's you!) has insomnia and encounters the master of dreams himself. This is my first attempt at an X Reader, so please be gentle...





	

     You glanced at the clock. Two thirty. Two thirty in the fucking morning. You rolled back onto your pillow and ran a hand over your face. Why the hell can’t you fucking _sleep!?_

     You have insomnia, that’s why. You’ve tried medications, and none of them worked. Hell, you’ve even tried watching boring as hell soap operas, but even that didn’t work.

     Oh well, back to the wonderful world of YouTube. After an hour of that, you finally started to feel tired. You turned your tablet off and stuffed it under the pillow, rolling onto your stomach to get some sleep.

     Just before sleep took your consciousness, you could’ve sworn you saw a shadow standing in your doorway.

     When you went into the dream, it started in a boiler room. Before you could wonder why it seemed so familiar, you heard a low chuckle echo around you. Without thinking, you bolted around one of the many pieces of equipment. You were too busy watching over your shoulder to notice someone standing in your way; you bumped right into him.

     “Hey sweetie,” a low voice purred, “having trouble sleeping?”

     You looked up and saw the face of someone you’ve come to know very well. A burnt face overshadowed by a fedora, striped sweater, fucking finger knives…now you understood why everything was so familiar. You’ve had your fair share of run-ins with him before, and this was the deadly cat-and-mouse game you both knew well.

     “Krueger,” you greeted him, crossing your arms.

     “Insomniac,” he hissed the ‘s’.

     You put your fists on your hips. “I haven’t got all goddamn night.”

     He tilted his head, making the shadow cast by his hat flow over his burnt features. “Then I suggest you run this time,” he suddenly melted into the shadows.

     You rolled your eyes. “Where the hell did you go, ya motherfucker?” you called out, turning in a circle.

     “Right here, sweet cheeks,” he said from behind you.

     Before you could turn around, you suddenly felt white hot pain spread across your back, and you fell to the ground with a pained grunt. You turned to face him, fury in your eyes. “What the ever loving fuck was _that_ for!?” you hissed.

     He grabbed the front of your shirt with his unarmed hand and slammed you into the wall. “Why won’t you fucking _run!?”_ he snarled in your face.

     “Because I’m not a coward!” you snarled back.

     He slammed his claws into the wall next to your head, and you flinched. He leaned closer to your face, breathing heavily. Finally he unceremoniously dropped you to the ground, and you glared up at him. He turned and sauntered a few steps away.

     “Why won’t you just kill me?” you muttered, not expecting him to hear it.

     He stopped, hesitating for a few seconds before turning around and stepping closer to you, bending to your level with a look of amusement on his face. “What was that?”

     You scowled up at him. “I _said,”_ you sat up a little. _“Why won’t you fucking kill me!?”_ you screamed.

     He didn’t react, just sat there, switching his gaze between your eyes.

     Your breaths became ragged, and you felt tears running down your face, leaving a trail of fire on your cheeks. You turned away from him, furiously wiping them away, only to have more come. “Please,” you said quietly, “just kill me.”

     He took the claws off his hand and pushed them toward you. “Do it yourself.”

     Without hesitation, you snatched them up and slipped them on, raising your hand above your head and stretching out your other arm.

     Just when the claws were about to come into contact with your skin, something stopped it. You looked up to see his hand clamped around your wrist, keeping it from going anywhere.

     “Huh,” he commented, “I didn’t expect you to actually take me up on it.”

     You ripped your arm from his grip and threw his claw back at him. “Fuck you, Krueger,” you said bitterly.

     He sighed and glanced down at the claw lying harmlessly on the ground in front of him. “Fuck this,” he grumbled and stepped closer to you.

     You looked somberly up at him. “What?”

     He didn’t say anything; just sat down next to you and crossed his legs.

     You sighed deeply and rested your head against the wall. Everything suddenly went white, and the next thing you were aware of was being back in your bed.

     You glanced at the clock. Six thirty on a Saturday morning. “Fuuuccckkk,” you groaned and tried to sit up.

     A hand pulled you back down, and you felt a soft breath on your ear. “Get back here, insomniac.”

     You turned around to see Freddy laying there, his head propped up on an elbow, his icy blue eyes staring at you. You gave an exasperated sigh and scooted closer to him.

     He relaxed, throwing an arm around your frame and sighing.

     “Fuck you, Krueger,” you muttered.

     He scoffed and rested his chin on the top of your head. “Good night.”

     You felt him take off his claws and toss them across the room. “Freddy?”

     He grunted in acknowledgment.

      “Thank you.”

     He wrapped his arm a little tighter around you.

     “Fuck you, though.” You murmured before falling asleep in record time.


End file.
